Alumni Op-ed: Reckoning with a Painful Past

The past year has marked a time of heightened racial tensions. Members of the community reflected on their experience at the School and looked to support one another in a time of healing.

Three alumni representatives on the School’s newly created Equity and Inclusion Council, Joyce Boykin ‘68, Jocelyn Cheng ‘14, and Munish Walther-Puri ‘97, worked to connect with alumni of color “ to understand the plethora of voices represented by the alumni of color community,” said Walther-Puri.

Through the conversations held with alumni of color, Boykin, Cheng, and Walther-Puri found a “pattern of intolerant (and at times, overtly racist) behavior in the classroom and curriculum that continued over decades.”

In their recommendations to the School regarding supporting students, specifically students of color Boykin, Cheng, and Walther-Puri said, “Model accountability: show students how you hold faculty, administrators, and staff accountable for their actions and behavior. Accountability is a core concept for citizenship.”

“Further, diversity is not sustainable without inclusion, and is less meaningful without equitable application. Tell the stories of alumni of color, so both the current students can understand the history, and ensure that it does not repeat, or even rhyme.”

As a part of their work to represent alumni of color, Boykin, Cheng, and Walther-Puri collectively wrote an op-ed to highlight their findings in conversations with alumni, and their objectives for the School to reflect on their past, present, and future. 

Read the alumni’s op-ed below:

One of Head-Royce’s greatest obstacles to a bright, inclusive future is facing its dark, traumatic past. We fully recognize that the school is conducting myriad anti-racist efforts – and we applaud them. The alumni of color community, however, cannot heal unless the school directly addresses a culture of intolerance, lack of accountability, and the psychological harm that has impacted alumni to this day. 

Like many others in the Head-Royce community, we were alarmed by the postings of the “Black@HRS” Instagram and moved to action. Through an application process, we were selected to join the Head-Royce Equity & Inclusion Council (EIC) as alumni representatives. First, we asked ourselves, “how could the three of us possibly represent the plethora of voices in the alumni community?” After a series of discovery meetings and reflection, we agreed that our most effective and powerful contribution would be to construct a dialogue between HRS, the institution, and alumni of color. We also sought to understand alumni of color experiences so that we could communicate to stakeholders, represent the range of alumni voices, and help the school prepare for the upcoming climate assessment (see the HRS 10 Step Action Plan).  

We personally reached out to over 400 alum of color, but only captured a limited number of experiences. That response rate alone – less than 10% – could very well be an indicator of the strained relationship between the school and its alum of color.

After conversations with nearly 30 alum of color, we collected, coded, and analyzed these stories, to distill and articulate the common narratives and trends over the years. Clear themes appeared – regardless of class, ethnicity, gender identity, cultural context, religious affiliation, or time period. A general consensus emerged that the leadership of the school – composed of faculty, administrators, and board members – did not hold itself, its personnel, or students accountable for actions, words, and microaggressions that impacted the psychological safety of the students of color. For some alumni of color, their educational institution, instead of nurturing them, reinforced systemic racism and exhibited a pattern of traumatizing students of color. 

Not all alumni felt this way, and many appreciated the academic experience or the small pockets of community and support, particularly among non-administrative staff of color. In many of these alumni reflections, however, other themes became evident, such as socioeconomic stratification and polarization, (in)visibility, as well as self-identity and perception. 

After this history and pattern began to emerge, we were faced with two related questions: Does HRS care about its alum of color? And, as a result, could it be that many alumni of color don’t care about HRS?

Without deep reflection on the kind of relationship HRS wants with its alumni of color, the institution is unlikely to learn from its mistakes. We are generally supportive of the 10-step action plan, though questions remain about cultural reform and the long-term impacts from a pattern of trauma. If HRS chooses not to examine and address the root cause, the stream of incidents is likely to persist and threatens the school’s sincere pursuit of Scholarship, Diversity, and Citizenship (Head-Royce’s mission). Additionally, the school could struggle to attract and retain faculty and administrators of color, which creates a negative feedback loop to decrease its appeal to prospective students of color. Importantly, many alumni of color will remain estranged from the school, withholding their considerable financial and professional capital. In short, HRS stands to suffer harm to its reputation, values, social capital, and potential revenue as a result of neglecting the root cause. 

If HRS wants to rebuild and restore a relationship with alumni of color, there are three elements to building trust: acceptance, acknowledgment, and reconciliation. 

Beginning with acceptance, HRS needs to hear – really hear – these stories. For many of the alumni we spoke with, these reflections were the first time that they were sharing their experiences or having their experiences validated. After hearing some of these anecdotes, we agreed that no student should ever endure this kind of trauma. As one alumni wrote to us, “racism is persistent because it pays dividends to the privileged.” HRS has benefited from the contributions of generations of students of color, bolstering Head-Royce’s reputation of academic excellence and diversity. So, if HRS is open to change and feedback from alumni of color, the school should demonstrate a willingness to listen to disenfranchised alumni.

Next is acknowledgment of past wrongs. HRS should publish a statement – beyond what it already has – directly related to its treatment of alumni of color while they were students. This pattern stretches back decades and reveals a culture of, at least, complacency, and at worse, deep-seated racism and intolerance. Importantly, this acknowledgment cannot simply come “from the school” – some departments bear specific responsibility for prejudiced pedagogy cascading into the present. This acknowledgement might also spark reflection among former faculty and administrators, as well as white alumni, about their role and responsibility.

Finally, reconciliation. This element is the hardest, as it requires sustainability. During our conversations with alumni of color, we catalogued myriad efforts and artifacts of the oral history of diversity at HRS. Understandably reticent alumni of color expressed willingness to support and connect with current students. We propose that, in concert with current students, these artifacts be preserved, shared, and celebrated as a part of the school’s history e.g., a designated section of HRS magazine or school newspaper or i-Search projects. 

HRS cannot change its painful past, but it can transform its relationship with the past and thus its culture. HRS must begin the arduous, introspective work to begin that transformation.

Joyce Boykin ‘68
Jocelyn Cheng ‘14
Munish Walther-Puri ‘97